


Behavioral Modeling

by scripsi



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Modern AU, artist!Clarke, model!bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:18:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3726883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scripsi/pseuds/scripsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin is a make-up artist, and Bellamy Blake is one of the models she works with frequently. There is flirtatious banter, misunderstandings, and *gasps* the fake dating trope! The story takes place over the span of a couple months, but there are flashbacks to when they first met, became friends, etc. Also, he calls her princess a lot... if you're into that kinda thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She sees him out of the corner of her eye while she’s applying lipstick to another model. He’s on his phone, and he has a smile on his face. It’s probably his sister. God, she hopes it’s his sister. She smiles at Heather - or was it Harper - as she leaves, then takes a sip of water. It was so much easier when they first started working together. She wouldn’t worry about who he was talking to on the phone. He would say something ridiculous, and she would roll her eyes.

_“Princess, are you gonna make me pretty today?”_

_“Ease up, Princess. I don’t think the shoot’s gonna be in drag.”_

He would still tease her, and she would still roll her eyes. But, now there was an underlying affection. It felt like they were almost friends. Friends that mostly see each other at work. A friendship where one takes a little longer doing the other’s eyebrows than is strictly necessary just to talk to him a few minutes more. Sometimes they had lunch together during breaks. That counts, right?

_It started changing about six months ago when she had some red paint on her sleeve. “Yikes, Princess. Murdered anyone today?”_

_“Ha Ha. Very funny. I was painting this morning, and didn’t realize I had gotten some on my sweater.”_

_Bellamy looks thoughtful for a moment before saying “I didn’t know you painted.”_

_At that, Clarke just shrugs her shoulders. “You don’t really know me.” She didn’t mean it as an offense. It didn’t really bother her. She freelanced, but she saw the same few dozen models most of the time. She didn’t really feel like she knew any of them either._

_Bellamy eyed her seriously. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”_

Then, he started asking about her painting and drawing. What did she draw inspiration from? Did she do commissioned work? At that, she blushed, and reminded him that he hasn’t seen any of her work. She said he might not like it, which made him scoff. She yearned to draw him, though. Sometimes she would see him pose a certain way at a shoot or look at her with that damn smirk, and her fingers would itch for her charcoals. Over the next couple months, this continued. He would ask about her life, and he would talk about his. He talked about his frustrations and worries for his sister, Octavia. She told him about her dad and her fears of disappointing her mom.

She’s shaken out of her memories by Bellamy sitting down in front of her. “Hey! Long time no see.” They had worked together just last week, but she agreed with him-- it did feel long. 

“How did the basecamp shoot go? I think Glass did your makeup for that shoot?” She tries to keep her voice light and conversational, but apparently she fails given the smirk on his face. 

“Jealous?” He laughs at her scowl. “Don’t worry; you’re still my favorite.” She rolls her eyes at his overdramatic wink. 

A couple hours later, the shoot is wrapping up and he walks over to her by the catered snack table. “Any exciting weekend plans?” Bellamy asks. 

“Oh tons! As long as you count packing and moving as exciting plans.” 

He chuckles at that. “Well, I’m glad you’re finally moving out of your shitty apartment.” 

Clarke scoffs. “You don’t even know what my place looks like.” 

“Well you complain about it so much that I feel like I have. Hey, and maybe I can see it this weekend.” Clarke’s eyes widen dramatically. 

“No! Uhh… No. I mean I could help you move,” Bellamy stutters out. 

“Oh, that’s really nice of you to offer…” she starts. 

“Don’t sound so surprised that I’m nice, Clarke. You wound me.” 

She rolls her eyes. “As I was saying, it’s nice of you to offer, but my friends Monty and Jasper are already planning on helping. What they lack in brawn, they more than make up in enthusiasm.” 

“In that case, you’ll definitely need my help. Seriously, it’s no problem. Miller and I were going to hang out Sunday, but he has a truck. He won’t mind. He’d love for me to owe him a favor.” 

Clarke looks at him hesitantly. It would be helpful to have a truck. She was planning on renting a van, but that’s always such a pain in the ass. Plus, Nathan Miller, one of the other models, is really nice. “Only if you’re sure,” she hedges. 

He smiles brightly and reaches for her phone. “What’re you doing?” she asks as she unlocks it and hands it to him. 

"I am putting my number in, and texting myself." He hands it back, and calls out “see you Sunday.” Clarke waves goodbye and goes to her recent texts. She sees one sent to Bellamy (your favorite model) Blake with just one word-- “princess.” Well, she thinks to herself, that’s one way to get his number.

She spends much of her Saturday packing all of her belonging into boxes. It was hard not to look around and feel nostalgic for what this place had meant to her. She moved here a couple years ago. It was how she declared independence from her mother after she finished nursing school. Moving to New York from DC, so she could make it as an artist was the scariest thing she’s ever done. She enjoyed her job now, but she yearned for being able to just paint and draw. The last few months, she was working every hour that she wasn’t doing makeup to build her portfolio. Ever since the Finn debacle, she decided that if her personal life was suffering, she could at least work to make her professional life a rousing success. 

Sunday morning, Monty and Jasper are sitting on the ground drinking coffee when Clarke hears a knock at the door. She takes a breath, steels her nerves, and opens the door. She greets Miller and Bellamy with a smile, then they get to work. 

It's difficult not to get distracted by Bellamy as he moves boxes out to Miller's truck. He’s in blue jeans and a black v-neck and she feels like she’s going to faint. She could blame it on the heat. Except, damn it’s February. Clarke has seen him basically naked before, so she is pretty frustrated by her inability to keep her cool. 

“Never would’ve called you Princess if I knew you lived in this dump," Bellamy says after an hour or so of loading the truck. 

Clarke smiles. "If I remember correctly, you started calling me that before you knew me at all."

He laughs. "I guess that's true... Princess." Clarke rolls her eyes as she tries (and fails) not to smile.

They bring a truckload over to her new apartment in the East Village before breaking for lunch. Jasper heads to grab takeout for everyone, and they all settle in. Bellamy and Clarke are standing by her back window while Miller and Monty sit against the living room wall talking animatedly. "I really appreciate you doing this," Clarke starts. "I'm sure there are more fun ways to spend a Sunday." 

At that, he flashes his several million dollar smile. "I'm rescuing a Princess. What could be more fun than that?"

After a couple more trips to get the rest of the smaller items, Jasper announces “well, all that’s left is the bigger furniture.” Jasper glances around for volunteers. 

Before someone else can interject, Bellamy says, “how about Monty and Miller get the couch and mattress, and the three of us can stay to organize boxes?” Jasper smiles knowingly over to Monty and Miller who readily agree to this new arrangement. They’re barely out the door before Bellamy grins lasciviously and says “it looks like I won’t owe Miller after all.” Clarke elbows him and Jasper laughs.

Jasper leaves soon after everything is moved, and winks at Clarke. She rolls her eyes. Why are her friends such dorks? The four of them are drinking beer and unpacking the kitchen when Monty asks, “so where is Raven?” 

Clarke continues to unload plates, as she responds. “She had to go on a last minute arctic trip to fix a leak that sprung on one of the…” 

Bellamy stares in shock. “You and Raven are friends? Is this the same Raven you told me about a few months ago?” Monty and Clarke chuckle at that.

_Clarke is at a coffee shop a week after her breakup with Finn when she sees Raven come through the door. It’s fucking New York, she thinks to herself. How could they possibly be running into each other in a city of 8 million? The reason, apparently, is that Raven was seeking her out. Raven walks over to Clarke’s table with a determined look on her face. Clarke doesn’t have time to mount a defense before Raven says, “Hey! I’m awesome. You seem awesome. I need more friends in the city. You wanna get drinks tomorrow night?”_

_Clarke is dumbfounded, but recovers eventually. “Uhhh, suure?”_

_"Great. Dropship at 8ish?”_

_Clarke just nods and offers a weak, “see you then,” before Raven heads back out._

That was nearly two months ago, and since then they were nearly inseparable. Despite Finn’s numerous other flaws, apparently he has good taste in girlfriends. She tells Bellamy as much, and enjoys the bewildered look on his face. Miller seems to understand this isn’t the time to ask questions. “Is she gonna be back in time?” Monty asks. 

“Oh, of course,” Clarke says, “she said and I quote ‘we’re gonna go balls to the walls and get you beyond shitfaced.’” 

They all laugh before Miller asks, “your birthday?” 

Monty cuts in and says, “yeah! You guys should come.” Monty's eyes go wide as he glances over at Clarke who chuckles good naturedly. 

“It’s fine, Monty. You are both welcome to join us. It’s the Saturday after next at the Dropship.” Miller and Bellamy both promise that they wouldn’t miss it. A little while later, the boys all head out, and Clarke thanks them for coming. 

Bellamy stays at her doorway as Monty and Miller walk out to the truck. He smiles down at her before asking, “so when am I gonna see you again?” Clarke’s breath catches before she reminds herself that they are friends. He’s just being friendly. 

“I think Tuesday. You have that cologne shoot, right?” 

He looks strangely disappointed as he says, “yep. Giorgio Armani.” 

Confused by his reaction, she tries to joke. “Come on, it can’t possibly be as bad as the Pizza Hut ad I know you did a few years ago.” He chuckles half-heartedly, and starts to leave. “Bellamy?” she asks. 

“Yeah?” 

She reaches up and kisses his cheek and says, “thanks again for coming. I had a good time.” 

He eyes her for a moment before smiling softly. “Me too, Clarke. I’ll see you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! First chapter. Hope you enjoy! :)
> 
>  
> 
> [come find me on tumblr!](http://legividivici.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

After his odd behavior as he was leaving her place, Clarke is relieved when it doesn’t carry over to that week. Each day they work together, he lingers at her makeup chair longer than is strictly necessary chatting and flirting with her. Apparently, it’s enough that someone notices. 

The week after, Roma--another model--brings it up. “Heyyy,” she starts, “you and Bellamy seem close.” 

Clarke shrugs. “We work together a lot, and he’s pretty great. The problem is, he knows it.” 

Roma laughs. “Very true. So, uhh are you two together?” 

Clarke’s eyes widen. “Together? No. No. We’re just friends I guess.” 

Roma looks pleased with that information. “Good! He’s really cute. I think I’m going to make a move. Wish me luck!” At that, Roma winks at Clarke and walks over to where Bellamy is standing. 

After a few minutes, Clarke sees them laughing as Roma casually places her hand on Bellamy’s arm. Clarke does her best to look away, and focus on the eye palette of the next model. 

That Thursday, they’re at a shoot where Bellamy’s modeling wristwatches. Watches Clarke knows he would never wear. “They’re so gaudy,” she can hear him saying. When it’s over, he comes over to her chair. “Getting excited about the festivities this weekend?” 

“Oh you know it. I have no idea what to expect. Raven can get a little crazy.” He looks at her so softly, she is compelled to say, “What?” 

He smiles, and says, “you. making friends with her after what happened. It’s just… you’re pretty unique Clarke Griffin.”   


_They had a night shoot scheduled one Wednesday a few months before. That afternoon, Clarke met her boyfriend’s girlfriend. His girlfriend who he had been dating for the past five years. So yeah, she wasn’t looking forward to that night’s shoot. She thought she had been doing a good job appearing normal until Bellamy came over to her._

_“What’s wrong?” Clarke looks up at him with feigned confusion._

_“What? Oh, nothing. I’m just really tired.” He raises his eyebrow in disbelief. She huffs out a laugh. “It’s just relationship drama. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about that.”_

_He clears his throat, and says, “Is it… was Finn...?”_

_She takes pity on him and interrupts. “It turns out he was using me to cheat on his girlfriend, Raven. She is an offshore mechanic, and had been gone for like eight months. She came back early to surprise him, and it uhhh… didn’t go super well.”_

_Bellamy’s fists clench as she puts powder on his nose. “He’s an idiot.” Clarke smiles and agrees._

_The shoot is almost through. She yawns, and looks forward to an end of her impossibly long day. Maybe with a nice glass of wine. Or a bottle. Her plans vanish when Bellamy appears and demands they go to a bar, so she can “forget his sorry ass.” They play darts, drink tequila shots, and swing dance to bad techno. She spends the whole night with a ridiculous smile on her face. That’s when she realizes that she’s really in trouble._

"Raven's great, though. Becoming her friend was worth the Finn drama. He somehow continues to be an ass. I guess you can't always get what you want," she sighs. 

Bellamy laughs. "What does he do? Try to shove new girlfriends in your face?" Clarke shakes her head. "Far worse than that-- he keeps trying to win me back." Bellamy scoffs. “I wish he'd get the hint. He knows about the party, so he might swing by.” Clarke chuckles at the horrorstruck look on his face. "It's not a big deal. He just… doesn’t get that me not being with someone doesn’t mean I want to be with him.” 

Bellamy nods his head in recognition, and after a moment says, “What if you are with someone?” 

Clarke shakes her head. “Lexa and I just hooked up a few times. It was never anything serious.” Bellamy smiles wryly. “What, for example, if you are with someone who was say 6’3” with brown hair, who you worked with on occasion.” Clarke’s mouth drops open in shock. He laughs and beams at her. “C’mon Clarke. It would be fun. I think I’d make an excellent fake boyfriend. Plus, you’d get to make Finn jealous.” 

Clarke schools her expression before shaking her head. “That’s a very sweet, albeit strange, offer. I can handle Finn, though.” 

Bellamy shrugs. “Alright, your call.” 

Clarke, Raven, and Harper are laughing and jumping around together in the middle of the dance floor as MIA plays. Clarke glances over at the rest of her friends and smiles. At first, Clarke was worried about Bellamy and Miller having a good time, but her fears were clearly unfounded. The usually reserved Monty was excitedly telling "Nate" about a computer virus he tackled early in the week while Miller looks on with a frankly absurd grin on his face. Bellamy, meanwhile, was arguing with Monroe about whether Juvenal or Horace was the more groundbreaking Greek poet. 

When Monroe goes to grab another beer, Clarke heads over to their table. Bellamy beams at her as she walks towards him. "Having a good birthday princess?" She pours a glass of champagne from the bottle that Jasper bought her with the exclamation, “BIRTHDAY’S ARE FOR CELEBRATING!” 

Clarke looks faux-thoughtful before saying, “well the music is great, but the company is only so-so.” 

Bellamy laughs, “oh, so that’s how it is.” Clarke smiles back at him. “Yeah I guess it is.” 

“I missed you at the shoot on Friday,” Bellamy starts. 

“Yeah, I am trying to get a bunch of my pieces done for this art show next month, and I felt suddenly inspired. Don’t tell anyone; I called in sick,” Clarke said with a wink. 

“Your secret’s safe with me. So, what’s this art show?” Bellamy asks. 

She takes a sip of her champagne before explaining. “It’s just this kind of free entry exhibit that MoMA is hosting for new artists in the New York area. It’s unlikely that anyone will really come, but it’s still a good opportunity for me.” Clarke tries to downplay it out loud. In her head, though, she’s thrilled that she got one of the twenty-five spots. 

“Well, maybe you’ll see me there. You know, if I happen to be free,” Bellamy says nonchalantly. 

“If you’re free, huh?” Clarke challenges. 

“Yeah. If I have nothing better to do,” he replies with a rogueish grin on his face. Clarke is smiling just as widely back at him before her face suddenly drops. 

Bellamy is momentarily confused, before he looks behind him and sees the man who just walked into the bar. Bellamy lifts his eyebrows in question, and Clarke nods. As soon as Finn sees Clarke, he makes a beeline to their table. At this point, Jasper and Harper have started making their way toward Clarke as well. They look ready to diffuse any situation that may arise. Luckily, Raven is making out in the back of the bar with Monty’s co-worker (“Wick’s just a friend, Clarke. Shut up!”) 

Finn greets Clarke with an oddly cheery, “Hey! Happy Birthday! Oh, and nice to meet you,” he thrusts his hand at Bellamy, “I’m Finn. And you are?” 

Clarke makes a quick decision and interjects, “this is Bellamy, he’s my boyfriend.” Jasper, who is now at their table, then starts choking on his beer, which gives Bellamy enough time to turn his surprised expression into a calm smile. 

“Nice to meet you. It was Finn, right? We were about to go play darts, but thanks for stopping by. I’m sure Clarke really appreciates it,” Bellamy says before grabbing Clarke’s hand and pulling her to the dartboard. 

They’re halfway through the game and their bottle of champagne when Clarke hits a perfect bullseye. She spins around towards Bellamy in triumph. Her face is full of absolute delight, and she’s ready to taunt him about losing to a beginner before he pulls her in and kisses her. 

Not a moment is lost in surprise as Clarke pulls herself up to him to deepen the kiss. She wraps her arms around his neck before carding her fingers through his hair, and pressing her body into his. Bellamy’s arms around her waist lift Clarke a few inches off the ground, and Clarke is tempted to wrap her legs around his middle to get ever closer to him. It feels like they’re on fire, and she wants to burn forever in the flames. God, how did she know kissing him would be like this? 

They break apart, and Clarke looks around him to see Finn looking disgruntled. 

Bellamy follows her gaze, then abruptly steps back. “Don't worry princess, your ex-prince charming saw us. I’m sure he’ll leave you alone now.” The fondness with which he had come to say her nickname was replaced by a strange coldness. 

Clarke forces a laugh before saying, “I told you he was pretty pathetic, though, didn’t I?” 

Bellamy is silent for a few minutes. Clarke wants to disappear into the floor or kiss him again or do something that’ll make his empty expression turn back into the way he was looking at her just a few minutes before. Should she not have kissed him back? Was she too into it? Oh god, could he tell how into it she was? 

“I forgot to tell you,” he finally says, “I’ll be in LA for the next couple weeks working on a music video.” 

Clarke furrows her brow, “I thought you were staying here because of Octavia’s special dinner next Sunday.” 

Bellamy smiles at her, but it’s fake. “I can fly back in town for the weekend. I can’t deny the world my killer dance moves. And what would poor Jessie J do without me?” Clarke attempts to mimic his fake smile back before she makes a hurried excuse and heads to Monroe and Harper by the bar. 

Bellamy leaves not long after with a reluctant Miller in tow. Clarke stares after him as all hopes that this was just a schoolyard crush vanish out the door with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed the second chapter. Thanks so much for everyone that showed their love to this work through kudos, commenting, and bookmarking. It made me smile so much, and it made writing this chapter seem even more fun! Let me know what you think about this part, too. :)
> 
>  [As always, come find me here on tumblr!](http://legividivici.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

The next Friday, Clarke is heading to a shoot across the city when she her eye catches on a poster on the Subway. It’s Bellamy fucking Blake’s Calvin Klein ad. “That’s helpful,” she thinks to herself. She always knew she was attracted to him, but being reminded of how hot he is wasn’t helping. When she first met him, she thought he was just another cocky hardheaded model. He certainly had that air about him.

_He settles into her make up chair with a smirk. “You’re new.”_

_Clarke tries her best to remain professional. “Hello, I’m Clarke Griffin. You must be one of the models on the shoot.”_

_Bellamy raises his eyebrows. “I must be one of the models? Do you think I’m handsome?.”_

_Clarke scoffs. “Well, actually I was thinking that you are a model because you’re sitting in the make-up chair where I apply make-up to models. If you’re not, just know I don’t appreciate it when people waste my time.”_

_Bellamy’s look of surprise quickly turns into one of delight. “We’re gonna have a lot of fun together, aren’t we, Princess?”_

_Clarke rolls her eyes. She is not going to fall for his act no matter how cute his face is. “My name is Clarke, which I believe I already told you.”_

_He smirks again, “that you did, Princess.”_

Bellamy’s back in town. She knows he is. Not because the music video shoot is over. She may have asked someone where he was. It’s not a big deal. She is often curious when she hasn’t seen some models for a few weeks. Besides, she was super nonchalant. There was no way Sterling suspected anything. Not that there’s anything to suspect, Clarke reminds herself.

Later, the next week, Clarke is barely dragging herself through basic tasks. It’s not that the day sneaks up on her. Clarke remembers. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to forget. She doesn’t want to forget. It’s been five years since the death of her father, though, and a part of her just thought it would get a little easier. Maybe the constant weight on her chest would be relieved just a bit. She was wrong.

Her friends all remembered. Monty and Jasper dropped off some food, and offered to stay. Raven called and said, “we can sit at your house and cry or go out and get wasted.” Monroe and Harper sent flowers. Everyone was being really nice, but they didn’t understand. Losing a parent isn’t something you can explain. It’s just a part of your life. She didn’t want to cry or forget. She didn’t want words of comfort that were well-intentioned, but empty.

The truth is, she wasn’t surprised that she ended up outside Bellamy’s apartment building. As Clarke went to use the intercom, she was suddenly nervous. She only knew where he lived because he had once mentioned the name of his complex. He might not even be there. He could be busy. But, Clarke was there, and Bellamy was the only person she wanted to be around.

She rang the intercom for "Blake, B" and waited. After a few rings, there is a “hello?” Clarke takes a deep breath, “Hi Bellamy.” 

There’s silence for just a moment before he asks, “Clarke? Are you…? One second, I’m coming down.” 

Clarke’s voice is quiet when she replies, “okay.”

Barely three minutes pass before Bellamy opens the door barefoot with low slung black sweatpants and what was clearly a hastily pulled on grey t-shirt. Clarke was similarly dressed. She did put shoes on, though. It had felt like an accomplishment. Even in her state, she was not going to ride on the subway barefoot.

Before she can say anything, he sweeps her into his arms. She had held it together relatively well on the way there, but when he holds her with no pretense or question, she just collapses into him. Bellamy gently guides her up to his apartment, and they settle on his couch.

They sit there for a while, not saying anything. She leans against his chest, and he rubs comforting circles into her back. Eventually, she sits up and looks around his place. It seemed colder and much more clinical than she imagined. With that thought, she pushed aside the reminder that it was weird she had imagined it. There was no art on the walls, no sign of any personality. Maybe he moved in recently? She is tempted to ask him about it, but she feels like she owes him a bit of an explanation for arriving at his apartment at midnight crying.

“I thought it would be a bit easier by now. It’s been five years. Shouldn’t I be able to handle it better by now?” 

Bellamy sighs, and runs his fingers through her hair. “It doesn’t really get better, Princess.” They sit quietly for a few moments before Bellamy starts again. “But, you can learn how to get through it. You'll still think of them when you hear their favorite song, but eventually it makes you smile instead of cry. Because you get to remember something happy.” Clarke looks at Bellamy with hopeful eyes, then leans into his side.

_Clarke thinks back to a few months ago when she ran into Bellamy on a bench near the park where they were shooting that day. He had his face in his hands._

_She sat patiently for a few minutes before he said, “my mom was kind of a wreck, so when she died, I didn’t… a part of me thought it would be easier for Octavia. I was 17, so I thought, you know, in a year, I could gain custody, and we could just face the world together.” Bellamy drew a shaking breath. “She was in foster care for seventeen months before I could get her out.” He paused before adding, “Our mom had a lot of problems, but she loved us. I don’t think O even remembers the good times. I try to remind her, but it’s just… it’s just hard.”_

_Clarke reached over to grip his hand. “Octavia and Lincoln are engaged. I’m happy for them, but I just wish our mom was here.”_

_Clarke smiled at him. “Bellamy, I… I know that it’s tough, and I know that you feel like you’re not enough for her, but you are. I know how much Octavia means to you, and you will throw your sister the best wedding this town has ever seen.” Bellamy raised his brows at that._

_Clarke huffed a laugh. Bellamy squeezed her hand, and whispered, “thank you.”_

It’s been almost an hour since they’ve spoken, but the silence seems comfortable. He’s leaning back on the couch with his fingers in her hair, and she’s laying in his lap. "I've been meaning to talk to you about your show next weekend." Clarke looks up at him. Apparently, they weren't going to address the weirdness from her birthday party.

"Octavia's fiancé, Lincoln, is an artist. He uhhh... mostly does sculpture, but it might still be good to meet him. 

Clarke's eyes light up, and she stumbles out a "yeah, that would be wonderful." 

Relief washes through Bellamy's eyes, and he adds, “I would’ve introduced you earlier, but I didn’t realize until your birthday that you were serious about pursuing art. You told me you draw and paint, but I’ve never seen it, and… I don’t know.” Bellamy shakes his head and laughs awkwardly. 

Clarke feels the beginnings of a smile stretch across her face. “I guess you’ll see my art next weekend.” 

Bellamy smiles at her, and replies, “I guess I will.”

Clarke starts to stand, and says, “I should get home. I appreciate you letting me come by unannounced and take over your evening with my sobbing.”

“It’s really no problem, and it’s late. You should stay. I’ll take the couch." He must sense her hesitation because he adds, "it’s not a big deal, and I would feel better knowing you were okay tonight.”

Clarke makes to resist, but she’s so tired. And, her next shoot isn’t until the afternoon. So, instead she smiles and thanks him. Bellamy guides her to his bedroom, and points out the bathroom. They stand there for a moment before Bellamy says, “I have a sunrise shoot tomorrow, so just lock up when you leave in the morning.” 

Clarke gapes, “you should have told me! I kept you awake half the night!” 

Bellamy shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, seriously. Plus, if I look bad in the photos, I can just blame it on you,” he says with a smirk. 

She rolls her eyes. “Good night, Bellamy.” He smiles and says “sweet dreams.”

They see each other at work the next week, and they still tease each other. It’s patently clear, though, that something has shifted. Each smile has meaning, each careless touch as Clarke does his make-up holds something. They don’t talk about it. And when Roma and Bellamy are at the same shoot, but just exchange polite hellos, Clarke tries to calm the swooping in her chest.

She thought she’d be working until the last minute with wet paint on her canvases, but the morning of the show, she feels ready. She is calling the collection: “After the Apocalypse.” It’s a mix of barren wastelands, empty cities, radioactive creatures, and overgrown forests. She recognizes it’s a bit sad, but she can’t help but see hope that even after humans are gone, there may be lush forests with two headed deer and luminescent butterflies.

Raven, Harper, and Jasper all take the Friday off to help her set up. It takes her hours to decide which painting to put where, whether one should be a few inches higher, or a foot to the left, but none of them complain. They’re excited for her. She thanks them a million times before they all separate to get ready for the opening that evening. Clarke slips into a purple sheath dress, puts on smokey make-up, and pins her hair up all to attempt a professional but daring artist look. She takes a few deep breaths, gives herself a mirror pep talk, then heads back to the gallery.

Jasper and Raven are waiting at the door when the show opens, but Clarke had to shoo them off after a few minutes because Jasper couldn’t “play it cool.” Clarke was starting to relax. The show was going well, people seem interested in her pieces. Many are asking her about her inspiration, and some even talk to her about commissions. She’s talking to a slight woman in all black when Clarke sees Bellamy walking toward her with a huge grin on his face. Clarke thanks the woman (Judy? Jane?) who heads to explore more of the gallery.

“Hi,” she greets him shyly. 

Bellamy looks at her work, then back at her. “Clarke, this… you… you are incredible.” 

She stumbles over her words as she thanks him, and tries to explain her inspiration while he continues to beam at her. It’s distracting. 

After a few minutes, a throat clears behind them. “Sorry to interrupt,” Octavia says with a smirk on her face. 

“Of course. Hi, sorry! It’s good to see you Octavia. You must be Lincoln.” Lincoln nods to Clarke as he peruses her paintings. 

“These are impressive,” Lincoln finally says to no one in particular. 

Octavia grabs Bellamy’s arm to pull him away as she says, “Come on, let’s let them talk shop.” Bellamy offers Clarke a half-smile, and follows his sister.

The first evening of the show is winding to a close, and Octavia and Raven are deep in conversation about Krav Maga. Monty and Miller arrived together, which would’ve made the night a success regardless of her show. Currently, they’re walking around with Jasper pretending to be art connoisseurs. Harper and Monroe headed out early, but their presence did help subdue Jasper for a couple hours. Octavia walks over to Clarke, and says, “let’s go get you a drink.” Clarke looks over at Bellamy who is with Lincoln talking with various art critics who come by. He sees her and shrugs his shoulders with a smile.

Clarke turns back to Octavia, and says, “that sounds lovely.” 

They’re walking back, drinks in hand, when Octavia stops, and turns to Clarke with a focused look on her face. “Thank you for getting Bellamy’s head out of his ass about the wedding.” Clarke looks at Octavia in surprise. “No, he didn’t specifically say you, but, he said ‘someone from work,’ and if it had been Miller, he would have just said Miller.” Clarke struggles for something to say before Octavia adds, “don’t worry. I’m not trying to put you on the spot or anything. I just wanted to say thanks, so thanks.” 

Clarke smiles back at Octavia before saying “I should probably get back. You know, people might want to ask me about the art that I made.” Clarke cringes, and Octavia rolls her eyes before they both walk back to Clarke’s ‘art that she made.’

Everyone’s saying goodbye, when Bellamy comes back over to her. “You did great tonight, Clarke.” She just smiles back at him in response. “So, I have an evening shoot tomorrow, but I’ll see you on Sunday?” Clarke is slack-jawed. She feels like that a lot around him lately. “What?” he asks confused. 

“I just didn’t realize you were going to come back.” 

He chuckles, “someone has to babysit Lincoln while he talks you up. I’m afraid Octavia will have to do tomorrow. Don’t worry, she can get her lawyer face on.” 

Once again, Clarke struggles for something to say. She just gives him a hug, kisses him on the cheek, and says, “thank you, Bellamy.”

The third day of the show, the Met announces that she wins the “Choice Breakout Painter” award. Her friends' cheers drown out the polite clapping from the critics and other artists. Clarke is delighted and overwhelmed. Raven and Octavia seem almost competitive in their celebratory drinking. She’s fielding calls for publicists, other showings, and pieces to commission. She’s so thankful that Lincoln is helping her with this process because she feels utterly out of her depth.

After the success of her show, Clarke takes the dive and stops scheduling shoots. Her last day is two weeks after the show, and of course, Bellamy is one of her last models. It’s the end of the day when he heads back over to her. “I’m glad it’s working out.” He pauses before adding, “I’ll miss you here.” Before Clarke can process what he meant by that, he starts again. “Octavia said you used her to model for one of your pieces.” 

Octavia is such a blabbermouth, Clarke thinks to herself. 

Despite the disgruntled expression on Clarke’s face, Bellamy continues. “It’s weird that you asked her instead of, for example, her brother-- who is actually a model.” Bellamy smirks at her and winks, but she knows him. She can see the disappointment behind his eyes.

“Well, would you mind giving me a ride home before the party tonight?” He looks taken aback, but pleased with her offer. Bellamy stands off to the side, as she says goodbye to the photographers and some of the other models. 

When Roma hugs her, she whispers, “you two may not be together, but it seems like that’s not by choice.” She winks at Clarke before heading out the door. 

She walks up to Bellamy, who asks “ready?” 

She nods, and then says, “this party is going to be terrifying. I think it was probably a bad idea to introduce Raven and Octavia.” 

Bellamy laughs and leads her out with his hand at the small of her back. On the way back to her place, she talks about the gallery opening and ideas for her new studio. They laugh about how his agent (incorrectly) assumed he would want to model for Trojan condoms because he likes history.

When they walk up to her apartment, she asks him to wait for a minute, and leaves him standing confused by the door. When Clarke returns to see him awkwardly staring into space, she loses a bit of her nerve. When she clears her throat, he looks over to her. His eyes go wide when he sees what she’s holding.

She’s gripping the edges of the canvas of a painting of Bellamy and Octavia. It’s from Octavia’s law school graduation. A day that Bellamy has said many times was the proudest day of his life. There are dozens of pictures from that day, but his favorite (the one this painting is based off of) is blurry. It’s from right after the ceremony, and Octavia was making fun of Bellamy because he’d been crying. In the picture, they are laughing when one of Octavia’s law school friends snapped the shot.

Bellamy gapes at Clarke. He blinks rapidly before saying, “this is wonderful, Clarke. I don’t… I don’t know what to say.” 

She puts the painting on the table, and with renewed conviction says, “I know we only worked together for like a year, but you’ve been a big part of that time. I guess we still don’t know each other that well, but I appreciate you being there for me a few weeks ago and everything with Lincoln. I just… I’ll miss you. I wanted to give you something to remember me by, you know. And, also, to decorate your ugly ass apartment.” 

Bellamy laughs, but then his face softens. “We’ll still see each other, Clarke.” 

She looks up to him with so much hope in her eyes. “Will we?”

He takes a step closer to her, then another. He runs his fingers in her hair. He slowly leans down, and stops just a breath away from her. She wraps her arms around him, and kisses him fiercely. He moves his hands to her hips and lifts her onto the table, as she wraps her legs around him. As she pulls him closer and presses their bodies together, Bellamy lets out a small groan. She chuckles against his mouth, and he pulls back. 

He looks at her in amazement. “You never… I thought it was just me.” 

At that, she rolls her eyes, and says “you clearly have not been paying enough attention” before recapturing his lips.

As he starts to kiss down her neck, she says, “we really should go to my farewell celebration.” 

He sighs, “I guess so. But, how am I going to bring my fancy new wall art home?” 

Clarke shrugs her shoulders as she grabs her purse, “you can just bring it back to your place in the morning.” Bellamy’s eyebrows shoot up before she winks and drags him out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all folks! Things for reading my first foray into Bellarke fanfic. I have some more ideas for stories about them, so let me know if you are interested in reading here or [on tumblr!](http://legividivici.tumblr.com/)
> 
> P.S. Everyone that sent internet love my way, you made the writing a billion times more fun!


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